


All That's Left

by princecredence



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Erica, Alive Vernon Boyd, Alpha Derek Hale, Blood and Gore, Crying, Death, Depressed Stiles, Depressing, Feels, Happy Ending, Howling, Kissing, M/M, Mates, Movie Night, POV Stiles, Sad, Sad Stiles Stilinski, Sad with a Happy Ending, Scott is a Good Friend, Sheriff Stilinski Finds Out About Derek/Stiles Relationship, Star Wars References, Stiles shaves his head, Werewolf Jackson, mentions of Peter Hale - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-08
Updated: 2014-10-08
Packaged: 2018-02-20 09:36:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2423918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princecredence/pseuds/princecredence
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles finds Derek dead and can't deal with any of it. He's not sleeping. Not eating. Or being remotely normal loud-mouthed Stiles. He refuses everything. He hallucinates Derek's broken howls. Nothing feels right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	All That's Left

I was running, running as fast as my legs could carry me. Branches made large cuts on my face; I could barely feel the hot blood running down. We were fighting an Alpha, all of us.. Scott, Isaac, Boyd, Erica, Jackson, even Allison, and Derek. I heard his strangled, cut off howl near me. I heard no more whimpers or growls from the rest of the pack. As far as I knew it was just me now. Me, and the painful sound I had just heard from Derek. 

My body ached from the bruises and slashes that the Alpha had inflicted upon me. Through the twilight, I could see an outline of a body. It was Derek. His hands were bound together by rope and tied to a low-hanging branch above his head. As I got closer, the stench of blood was thick in the air, suffocating me. Something was in Derek's abdomen. A sword drenched in silver, gleaming under the moonlight. 

I cleared the last few trees and could see Derek in full now. He wasn't moving. Wasn't struggling. He was hanging by his wrists, head down. I took it all in and I felt the tears well in my eyes. He had been severed in half right above his hips. Blood was pouring to the ground, a river of newly spilt blood. I looked down at my shoes, their whiteness tainted by red. My stomach couldn't stand it and I fell to my knees and retched on a dry stomach. All I tasted was the bitter sting of acid. I wiped my mouth as I stood up again. I walked closer to Derek, trembling. Tears now streaked my face, running down, hitting my shirt in a waterfall. 

I hoped to hell that this was just another nightmare, the kind I woke up screaming to. It felt different. I was sobbing now, hyperventilating, my voice becoming louder with each inhale and exhale. 

"No... No, no, no, no.." I fell to my knees, blood staining my khakis, then laid down in fetal position, red covering the rest of me. I heard someone screaming, it was so loud, ripping through the forest, I thought it would knock all the trees down from where they stood. Finally, I realised it was me. My throat felt like it was on fire, but I only stopped screaming when I couldn't anymore. 

"Stiles?! Where are you?" Scott. 

I didn't want to answer. 

There were arms around me. Scott's arms. They were warm, abnormally so, ever since the bite. 

"C'mon, Stiles, we have to go.. Oh man, there's blood all over you."

I only curled up more where I laid, my forehead touching my knees. 

"Stiles." Scott whined, his voice breaking halfway through. 

The next thing I know, I'm being picked up. I do not fight against it; yet do not welcome it. 

I take one last look at the man I once knew, now hanging lifeless, the sword still there. 

 

xx

 

I wake up and I'm in my bed. It's cold, but I'm sweating profusely. Scott is passed out in my chair in the corner. I look at the window farthest from my bed. It's slightly ajar. A code between Scott and I that lets me know that my dad has been told of the situation. I silently slip out of bed and close it. 

I go downstairs to the kitchen and open the fridge. I smell Derek's blood again. I'm no longer hungry. I feel small tremors run through my body. I go to the couch and pick up my mom's favourite blanket. It no longer smells like her, but Derek. I cry until I fall asleep again. 

My dad wakes me up when he starts looking for his favourite sugary cereal that I hide from him. 

"Dad." I say and his head turns toward me.

He sighs, "I'm sorry Stiles.." He scrubs a hand over his face. I can see the stress he's under as if it were a blanket wrapped too tightly around him. 

I don't say anything else and he settles for oatmeal. 

 

xx

 

I go through the day eating nothing; it's just that I'm not hungry. I didn't understand it. It was like losing mom all over again. It's like there was something my subconscious knew that I didn't, like I cared way more about him than I ever thought I did. 

That night, I shave off the long tufts of hair on my head as it was in tenth grade. I keep running my hands through my buzz cut, like the hair is going to grow back out but it doesn't. 

 

xx

 

By the second week of losing Derek, I've lost weight; I look gaunt, and barely eat anything anymore. I can't feel anything. I feel numb. I mirror myself when I was the nogitsune. 

My dad helps me, so does everyone else. 

The pack that Scott now herds comes over for a movie every week with buttery popcorn and gummy worms and M&Ms. They crowd around the couch, making sure everyone is surrounding me like I'm a puppy in a dark room full of sharp things. I take my mom's blanket, wrap myself in it, and tune everyone out like I've never been able to do before. 

The pack tries to ignore my choices and treats me like I was before, just nicer. 

 

During one of the movie nights, I got bored and went up to my room. I opened the window and climbed onto the roof. 

It was a week before the full moon. The first quarter moon was showing. Cool wind bristled my skin, pulling up goosebumps. 

Sometimes I did this at night. I'd wake up from a nightmare and climb onto the roof to look at the moon and stars until I fell asleep. The nights with no moon were the loneliest. 

I took a deep breath in and sighed. 

I heard a howl. Derek's howl. His last howl. His strangled cut off howl. The one that fell too short. I started crying, and tried countlessly to tell myself if wasn't real. I felt like glass that kept being dropped, but what happened when I ran out of glue?

 

xx

 

By week eight, I never came out of my room, the movie nights stopped happening. No one said sorry anymore, but gave me sad and worried glances. My dad tried to take me to the doctor so that I could get antidepressants, but I didn't want to go, and I doubted they would help. It seemed like I was the only one still mourning. The only one who grieved over my Alpha's death. The sun stopped beaming in winter and so did I. 

I stopped sleeping, getting only thirty minutes to an hour each day. The pain in my chest never deflated. Nor the tremors. Or the crying. 

"Stiles." My dad said in a soft voice, "Scott's here."

I groaned out my answer. 

"C'mon, Stiles, we all want you happy again. We even miss you being annoying. I miss you telling me not to eat everything I want. Scott wants his best friend back, but it seems he went missing in a cave."

"Tell Scott to piss off." I said. 

"Language." My dad bit out, "Either let Scott come up here, or I'm taking you to the doctor's."

"Just get out! PLEASE." I yelled at my dad. 

"Stiles. C'mon."

"Just, go. Please." I talked in almost a whisper now.

I buried my face in my pillow and held my breath until I heard my door shut. 

Later that day, thunder rolled in, the rain hit my window, and I heard his howl again, and again, and again. 

 

xx

 

"Stiles, you have to come. Please. You need to see this." Scott said over the phone, it was eleven-thirty. 

"What is it?" I asked monotonously. 

"We can't tell you, but you'll be glad you came." 

"Y'know, I'm good, thanks." Then I hung up the phone.

I heard Derek's howl, but it was different, it wasn't cut off, it was full and whole, but sad. 

 

I stayed in my bed for the rest of the evening, staring at the ceiling. At one in the morning, the doorbell rang to my house. I didn't move, letting my dad get the door. I heard him go down the creaking steps and open the front door.

 

"Oh my God.." I heard my dad say, "STILES! GET DOWN HERE!" He yelled up to me. 

I kept quiet. 

The next thing I know, my dad is in my doorway, his eyes welling with tears, "You have a visitor."

He limps in, Scott and Boyd on his sides, helping him walk. He has legs. He's alive. Derek. Is. Alive. 

I get up, crying, rushing to my Alpha. I grab fists of his blue/grey t-shirt and hug him, not giving a fuck about Scott or Boyd. I'm shaking. I'm hyperventilating, gulping up the air where I can find it. My face is in his neck and his arms are now around me. My tears are making his skin and shirt wet, his are marking the back of my batman t-shirt. I hope that this isn't a dream, but if it is, I just hold on tighter to Derek, afraid that if I let go, everything will disappear. 

"Stiles." Derek lets go of me, wanting me to do the same to him. 

I hung on for a few more seconds, then finally let go and see that we're now the only two in my room, we then moved to the end of my bed as we sat side-by-side, "What the hell happened? I saw you dead. You were dead!" 

Derek sighs, his eyes looking over my face, "The Alpha we were fighting had a beta that looked like me. She murdered him, then captured me, took me hostage, and tortured me for information on where Peter was."

"Why did she want Peter?" I remembered to wipe the tears from my eyes and face. 

"He owed her something and never gave it to her, a very powerful object. That's all I know." 

"Oh.." I said.

"I heard about what happened to you."

"Who told you?" I asked sheepishly, looking away.

"Scott."

"Fucker." Derek laughed at my comment.

"Stiles, I'm never going to go anywhere." 

Our legs were touching, my hand was wrapped around his wrist, my head hanging down, looking at the floor between the 'v' of my legs. 

Derek's shirt had large red stains on it, those would never come out. 

"Why did no one else suffer like me?" I asked.

"We share a bond."

"That's it?" 

"Yeah." Derek said to me. 

"What kind of bond?" I think I already know. 

"We're mates." 

I was right, I didn't think anything of it, "Did you know before?" I asked. 

"Sort of. I felt something between us, but never knew until Scott told me what had happened to you." Derek said softly. 

"Oh." I said and leaned my head on his shoulder, "When I saw you—the beta—I couldn't stand it, it was sort of impossible in my mind. The guy who had cheated death about a billion times didn't get to use his get-away-free-or-mostly-free card. Everything smelled like you. Sometimes things smelled like blood. I was never happy with anything."

"I know." Derek sighed. 

I started to cry once more, "I felt empty."

Derek squeezes his eyes shut, like it was all his fault, like every bad thing that has ever happened to him was his fault, it was all weighing down on him. I think we were all waiting for the pipe above his head to burst. 

"Derek, it's not your fault."

"But I could've tried harder to be here with you." 

"That's not your fault either." I stated.

He looked at me, his green/blue/grey eyes mapping out my freckles (I could swear he was). 

I leaned closer to touch my lips to his and closed my eyes. 

I could taste the saltiness of tears between our mouths and I knew he felt the same as me. 

We kissed for what seemed like hours but was probably just a few minutes. 

When we stopped, I looked at him, studied his face, "I hope you now know I'm never letting you go again." I lifted up the hand that was entangled in his, my other hand wiped a tear away from my face, besides the fact I was smiling. 

He laughed, "Yeah, I know. And I'm fine with it." 

I kissed him again, "Is everyone still downstairs?"

"Yes." Derek said. 

"We better go down then." I said, "Do you need help?"

"No, everything has healed up." 

"How?" I asked, astonished. 

"You." Derek smiled. 

We walked out of my room, my hand still tangled firmly with his.

My dad was apparently the first one to hear me walk out of my room, even with five werewolves in a quiet room along with him. 

The first thing he saw was my smile, from which he came running to hug me. 

I hugged him with one arm, which was the second thing he noticed, "You two? Really?" He shook his head. 

"Yeah.." I laughed. 

Derek released his hand from mine, and slung it around my waist, pulling me close to him. 

"Well, as long as you're happy." My dad smiled. 

Scott was next, "Stiles is back!" He shouted, then hugged me. 

Long story short: Too many hugs, and a slap on the shoulder from Jackson. 

My dad went back to bed, and Derek, me, and the pack stayed up to watch Star Wars. 

I wasn't in the middle anymore; I was in Derek's lap in a chair in the corner. 

My head was tucked into his neck, my hand around the back of his head, my other hand around his shoulder. My feet were hanging off the side of the chair. 

I fell asleep with a full stomach, steady hands, and the beat of his heart.


End file.
